Head Shots
by Nevada11
Summary: It's the day before Christmas eve. Sharon tries to help Andy buy gifts for his daughter's new step-sons, but much like his shopping trip with Provenza, things go from bad to worse quickly. Written for dlcookie, as part of the LJ gift exchange.
1. Chapter 1

"Head shots!" Andy Flynn ducked as the gunmen sprayed the scene with automatic gunfire again.

Bullets ripped through the colorfully wrapped packages that he'd dropped on the sidewalk. He'd always worried that he was taking his life in his hands when braving the LA crowds at Christmas, but he wasn't expecting yet another case this week interrupting his vacation. This time it wasn't even in Venice Beach.

"Captain, they have body armor on. Don't waste your bullets on anything but head shots." He gave her a quick glance. There was a small cut on her cheek, probably not from the gunmen but from when he'd thrown her to the sidewalk when the shooting started. Otherwise she looked okay, not even especially panicked by the situation.

Andy was plenty panicked for both of them. Outnumbered and outgunned, their only option was playing defense. The robbers had fully automatic weapons. In the distance he could see one cop on the ground in a pool of blood. Another was still firing from the limited protection of his vehicle. He hoped the kid had the good sense to retreat and wait for reinforcements.

"Sharon, get off the phone. They're not giving up. Full body armor. We gotta aim for the head."

A ricochet struck the Santa sign next to him and reflexively he fired at the closest shooter, his actions accomplishing nothing except drawing unwanted attention to them.

Sharon Raydor cupped her hand over her cell phone, "I'm aware, Lieutenant. Calm down. Just let me get an ETA on SWAT from dispatch."

"Whatever their ETA is, it's too damn long," Andy yelled, noticing the advance of two of the gunmen towards their position behind a large concrete planter. He tried again to take one of them down without success.

He and Sharon had exited the toy store after Christmas shopping for his new step-grandchildren and walked right into the middle of a gun battle between masked bank robbers trying to get away and a couple of LAPD cops finishing a late takeout dinner in their patrol car. Wrong place, wrong time.

"We need to move before we're pinned down here! Come on! Sharon, let's go." For a split second he regretfully considered the packages on the ground a few feet away. Tomorrow was Christmas eve and at this rate he was never going to get his shopping done.

Sharon disconnected the 911 call and exchanged her cell phone for her gun. Firing a couple of shots as a distraction, she followed him back into the now deserted store, the glass from the front windows shattering as their movements were tracked.

* * *

"There's a traffic accident that's causing a delay in the rollout, plus high winds aloft – I caught something about air support being grounded. We're on our own for the next ten or fifteen minutes. Taylor is setting up a perimeter though."

"Wonderful, I was hoping they'd escape...as in leave. Now they're trapped just like us." He took a breath. "I heard news helicopters overhead, how bad could the weather be?"

"Bad enough. A storm is moving in." Sharon shrugged. "The more immediate question is why didn't the robbers leave the scene after the robbery? It seemed to me that they fired on that patrol car without any warning, before the alarms sounded. Why take that chance? They could have just left. Why are they forcing a continued confrontation with us?"

"The hell if I know," Andy grumbled. "Maybe they just like killing. Maybe those automatic weapons make them feel invincible."

Leaning forward, they were watching the front doors from behind the sales counter, their guns drawn and braced on the polished wood surface as they waited.

"How much ammo do you have left?" Andy asked. "I'm asking because I don't have much."

Usually he and Provenza got into these crazy situations together. They always made it out because they could anticipate each other's reactions. He wasn't sure if his current state of extreme unease was just due to the gunmen. He and Sharon had no history together, no shared experiences to draw on. He understood that in this circumstance they were dependent on each other, but it was awkward. They had no established rhythm.

"Almost a full clip, plus one in my purse."

"Really?" Okay, so maybe she brought something different to the table than Provenza. Considering their dash into the store, he admitted she could also "run" – something his partner refused to do.

He gave her an admiring glance. "You carry an extra clip in your purse?"

"Yes, since Rusty started getting those letters," she confessed without apology. "I also have some pepper spray, but I don't think that's going to be helpful in these circumstances."

A quick movement at the door was their only warning before the noise of rapid fire filled the room and the wood of the counter splintered in front of them. A line of stuffed reindeer were felled without resistance.

Sharon held her position, took a quick breath and squeezed the trigger - once.

The noise stopped.

"Damn!" Andy looked from her to the dead man in the front of the store. The mask had a hole in it just above the eyes. He knew she was a good shot, but that was better than good. "Don't say that was a lucky shot."

"Okay, I won't." She paused then added, "No bean bags this time. He's not going to be waking up."

Andy shrugged. "Works for me."


	2. Chapter 2

They were on the flat roof of the two-storied department store.

Glancing down at the street, Sharon could see a half-dozen masked robbers. They were going from store to store, generally shooting up the block, firing for no apparent reason. Unlike her and Andy, they seemed to have an unlimited amount of ammunition stored in the trunk of the brown SUV that she assumed was their getaway vehicle.

A getaway vehicle that they hadn't even tried to move.

Sharon brushed off the soles of her bare feet and put her heels back on. She'd taken them off to climb the fire escape. Ten minutes earlier they had retreated out the back and noticed the retractable metal stairs hugging the store wall. Andy had been tall enough to pull them down. After they had climbed up, Andy had jammed them so that no one would be able to follow. He was checking out the rest of the roof while she monitored the action on the street.

In a running crouch, Andy returned and sat down next to her. As long as they didn't stand up straight, the cartoon-decorated facade of the old store hid them from the view of anyone on the ground.

"Were you able to block the door?" she whispered, although in reality whispering probably wasn't necessary.

"Yes, we're good. It was just a trapdoor opening into the second floor storage room. There was a contractor's ladder set up below. I pulled that up, then moved some heavy roofing equipment over the top of the trap door. We're safe. No one is going to get up here now."

Sharon nodded. The adrenalin was wearing off and the realization of just how close a call they'd had was sinking in. "I tried calling Lieutenant Provenza, but his line was busy. I left a voice mail."

"I'm sure he knows our status. Taylor ordered us to stay put and wait for SWAT to handle it. For once I think he has it right." Andy pulled two bottles of water out of his jacket pockets and handed her one. "Better drink this."

She accepted one gratefully. "Where did—"

"The roofers have a couple of coolers over in the corner. There's soda, water, and some sandwiches. I didn't look too closely. I'm hoping we won't be here long enough to get hungry."

"I got a text from Mike Tao." Sipping the water, she willed her body to relax so she could think through the problem clearly. "He said the robbers have taken one patrolman hostage. Officer Jerry Lynch. Lynch went back for his partner's body and they grabbed him. I was afraid of that. It's hard to see your partner on the ground and not try and get to him."

Andy frowned. "You lost your first partner if I remember correctly? Peters?"

"Danny Peterson. We were responding to a burglary call. It was an ambush. Killing a cop was on the killer's bucket list." She shook off the memory. Considering the circumstances, she'd done all she could do but it wasn't enough. Just like with a few other significant things in her past, doing her best hadn't been good enough.

"Sharon, how does Tao know about Lynch? I thought they were holding four blocks out. Waiting for armored vehicles. Do they have eyes on the ground besides us?"

"No." Sharon sighed. "News helicopters. They televised Lynch's capture live. Which explains all the texts I've been getting from Rusty. More than a dozen texts, everything from wanting to know if I did his laundry to asking if he could order pizza. He also wants me to know we're out of milk."

"The kid's just worried. Trying to stay connected. If he gets a text back from you, he knows you're still alive." Andy shifted his position and raised up on his knees so he could look down onto the street. "It'll be dark soon. Looks like they've worn themselves out shooting at shadows. They're gathering back in front of the bank. We have to assume they have more hostages than just Lynch. The stores were packed. Not possible that everyone got away once the shooting started."

"But hostages might not have been their initial goal. Although nothing they've done has made sense." She pointed to the street light directly across from the toy store. "I'm hoping they settle down near that light. From here I can make that shot all day long – all night long if I had to."

Andy groaned and sat back down. "Let's save that as a Plan B. I'm not up for much of a battle. I think I pulled a muscle in my back lifting up that ladder from the second floor. Plus, even with your extra clip, we don't have enough ammo to go on the offense."

"You're right. And we don't have the right weapons to engage them effectively. I know that intellectually, but my heart doesn't like it. I don't like leaving that patrolman lying down there on the street." Sharon put the lid on her water bottle and set it next to her. A tiny ding sounded and she pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket.

"Rusty again? Tao?"

"No, neither." Sharon took a few seconds to read the text message, then closed the screen. She sighed. "Now that we have a few minutes alone, this might be a good time for you to explain why your daughter keeps inviting me out to lunch. After I backed you up at the ballet, I thought you promised to tell your family the truth, that we're just friends."

"Really? You want to have a relationship talk now?" Andy pointed over his shoulder towards the street. "I don't think this is the right time—not with bullets flying."

"Nothing is flying at the moment. Even the news helicopters are gone." She glanced up at the darkening skies. Lightning flashed in the distance confirming Taylor's information about a storm. "We had this discussion remember? You agreed to clear up the...uh... misunderstanding."

"Yeah, well, I've been kind of busy you know." Andy shrugged. "Besides..."

"Besides what?"

"I was going to talk to you about maybe..." He flashed a grin. "I figured there was another way to fix it."

"Andy! I'm not going to be part of some kind of continuing deception."

"No, that's not what I meant. I thought..."

The skies opened and the rain fell in sheets. They were soaked in a matter of seconds.

"Follow me—there's a tarp and some sawhorses. I set it up when I secured the trapdoor."

Andy lurched to his feet and pulled her up after him.

* * *

"Admit it, you were a Boy Scout."

The makeshift shelter reminded her of a pup tent. Her son had gone camping with his Cub Scout group once and he'd had to learn how to pitch one by himself to get the badge. Jack had been nowhere to be found as usual and she'd had to spend a weekend practicing with him in the park. Actually Andy's shelter was sturdier than anything she and Ricky had managed.

"Not hardly." Andy smiled at her. "Not a lot of wilderness in my New Jersey neighborhood, but we had plenty of abandoned buildings and constructions sites to play on. This is a pretty good replica of a fort I built when I was ten."

It was darker inside the shelter, the street lights keeping the rest of the roof a mixture of light and shadows.

"Are you cold?" Andy offered her his jacket but she declined. His jacket was just as wet as her clothes.

"How about hungry? Are you hungry?"

Sharon watched as he opened several of the plastic ice chests that he'd stacked to form one wall of their tent. He'd created a top by draping a heavy tarp over the sawhorses. She hadn't understood why he'd set one sawhorse on concrete blocks until she'd seen the rain draining off the sloped canvas instead of pooling. The addition of more concrete blocks on the edges of the tarp held it down to the store roof. They were sitting on a second tarp. The enclosure was dry, if permeated with the odor of fresh asphalt.

The sandwich he handed her was a basic bologna, cheese, and mustard. Under the circumstances, it's very ordinariness offered a measure of comfort.

They ate in silence, watching the rain.

After a few minutes, he handed her a soda and answered her earlier question. "Okay, I didn't tell them because I was hoping we could actually...you know...start seeing each other. I enjoy spending time with you and I—"

"I'm married," she said, her automatic response one she'd given more than a few men over the past twenty years. "You know that."

"I also know Jack Raydor. He's not your husband anymore, he's your excuse for not having a private life. Believe me from my years in AA, I know all about excuses. I've heard them all. Hell, I've made most of them."

She started to tell him that he didn't know anything about her life, that he had no right to make judgments about her marriage. She started to tell him that he should mind his own business, that she didn't owe him any explanations. But she was too angry to tell him anything.

Instead, she calmly put the remains of her sandwich back into the plastic bag, making sure the ziplock was closed. She set it to one side and sipped her soda.

The silence was heavy between them.

Despite the rain, the automatic weapons, the darkness, she wanted nothing more than to be climbing down that fire escape. The current situation was unbearable. The shelter was too small. He'd gotten too close.

"Sharon? Look I'm sorry if I've upset you but—"

"Stop. Enough." She pulled out her cell phone. "We need to check in with Taylor."


	3. Chapter 3

Andy checked his watch, then punched in a phone number on his cell phone. It was just past 8 pm. The standoff with the bank robbers had been going on for more than four hours. The standoff with Sharon was going on 45 long minutes. It was the later that had him worried. He'd crossed a line talking to her about her marriage. He knew that. He just didn't know how to get back to neutral territory.

"Flynn, what's your status?"

"Disgruntled. Depressed. I could use a drink."

"Not that kind of status."

While talking to Provenza, he could see Sharon across the room on her phone with Taylor, trying to get permission to take some kind of action. What kind of action he couldn't imagine, especially now that they had confirmation that civilians were still trapped in the area.

He answered his partner's question. "We've relocated from the roof. Now we're on the north side of the bank, across the side street, inside Carlo's Deli. The owner and his wife are still here, they've been hiding in the kitchen with a loaded shotgun. The wife is in a wheelchair, which is why they didn't evacuate when the shooting started. They're pretty freaked out. We're lucky they didn't shoot us when we knocked on the backdoor. Anyway, the Deli has a good view of the bank. Looks like the rain drove the shooters inside. Between downpours, I can see six or seven people in the glassed-in foyer of the bank. All appear to be heavily armed. Idiots have the bank lit up like a Christmas tree. Where's SWAT?"

Andy listened as Provenza went into a tirade on why nothing was happening. Something about the negotiator building trust with the leader of the group. Getting concessions. In exchange for a half dozen pizzas and case of Mountain Dew, two female bank employees had been released and the gang had allowed the body of the slain patrolman to be recovered. No word on the condition of the other patrolman, the one that had been taken hostage.

"The carbs and sugar will kill them but not right away. I hope the SWAT Incident Commander has a backup assault plan in his pocket." Andy shifted the phone to his other ear, now his right shoulder was bothering him in addition to his back. Lifting that ladder straight up was a mistake. One of several he made on that roof that he was regretting.

Provenza asked about the Captain.

"Sharon...the Captain is getting antsy to do something. Do you know what Taylor is telling her?"

Andy could see Sharon pacing back and forth in front of the sliced meat counter, holding her cell with one hand and gesturing dramatically with her other.

"He's saying the same thing he's been saying since this began, it's not his show and you two need to keep your heads down, unless you are under direct threat. He doesn't want either one of you playing hero and getting hurt. He claims he doesn't have the budget for it."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Andy sighed. "So what do you think?"

"I'm not paid to think, just to follow orders. Sit tight. If the situation changes, I'll call you."

"Hang on a minute," Andy said, sensing that Provenza was about to disconnect the call. "I need a favor. My shopping trip got derailed again by the criminal elements of LA. Can you have Tao get me one of those Target train sets for my daughter's step-kids? You know, like the one you paid for and gave to that dumpster diver who found Massey's stolen laptop and phone?"

"How did you? Did Tao tell you that? I swear he's becoming an old gossip in his advancing years. Yeah, I'll handle it. Anything else you need? Your dry cleaning picked up? Car washed? Cause you know, it's not like I don't have anything else to do but babysit you."

"Speaking of babysitting, how's the kid doing? He's been texting Sharon every five minutes."

"If you mean Rusty, he's nervous that you two are going to get yourselves killed, but then what sane person wouldn't be. Just don't volunteer for anything. The key to longevity in this job is not to volunteer and don't do anything in a hurry. Remember that, Flynn. Don't volunteer and move slowly."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, I guess if you don't have any good news I'd better—"

"Good news? Once piece. That Hollywood starlet that keeps driving drunk and getting probation? Well, she just ran away from rehab. The reporters that were bugging us for comments on the bank robbery have refocused on her. I figure we have a few hours breathing room to get this resolved before they're back at Parker Center."

Andy rolled his eyes. "How does that information help me?"

Provenza laughed. "It doesn't. You're screwed regardless, but it makes my life easier and that's the important thing."

"I'm hanging up now."

Andy pocketed his phone and pulled a chair to a place near the front window. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

"Thank you, Carlo."

The Deli owner had been supplying her and Andy with endless cups of excellent coffee, very grateful for the police presence in their store.

She took a sip of the hot, fragrant brew. Normally she preferred tea, but nothing about this day was normal. The caffeine was keeping her going. She was on watch while Andy grabbed an hour's sleep on a sofa in the small office. He'd be relieving her soon.

It was after midnight, although it seemed later, sitting alone in the dark. The rain had stopped so they were keeping all the lights off in case someone from the bank noticed their presence. The last text from Taylor indicated that the negotiations were at a standstill. His opinion was that it would all be over before dawn.

Meanwhile, she had some thinking to do. Comments from Andy, Rusty, and admittedly Jack himself, had her considering her reasons for continuing her 25 year marriage. Was the memory of love enough for her? Maybe not anymore.

In the beginning, the legal separation was done strictly to separate her finances from Jack before he bankrupted them both. At the time she'd anticipated him getting help with his gambling like he'd done with his alcoholism. She had expected him to come home in a few months and they would resume their married lives. But as one year stretched into another, nothing really changed with him. He was all empty promises and overbearing charm as he blew in and out of their lives. Their children had long ago refused to spend time with him; refused to risk being hurt again by his indifference to their feelings.

"You know I love you, but if you want a divorce Sharon, I'll agree to it. I know I don't deserve you."

Jack's words echoed in her mind. He must have said them at least once a year since they'd married. For various reasons, mostly religious, she had ignored his offer, hanging on to hope of a better future.

She whispered the words she'd only dared think before. "You're a fool, Sharon Raydor. The man you married doesn't exist anymore, maybe he never did."

Jack had said that he didn't deserve her. She agreed.

The problem was she didn't know what she deserved.

It was easier when her children were young. She knew what they deserved. They deserved a stable home. They deserved a roof over their heads, an education, and all the love she had to give.

Love was a funny thing. Her secret, what no one understood, was that she still had feelings for Jack. Over the years he'd been back in her life and her bed numerous times, but it never lasted beyond a few weeks before the lies, the shouting, the recriminations, and the tears took over. Five years ago she'd told him she'd give him two nights in her condo when he wanted to see her, but no more. The time limit wasn't to punish him but to protect herself from getting attached again.

Foolishly she'd broken her own rule during his last drive-by. His leaving although expected, had hurt.

"Headache?"

"What?" It took a second for her to realize that Andy was asking her the question.

"You were rubbing your temples. Ready to let me take over?" He gave her a tentative smile.

Was she? Probably not, but that didn't mean she shouldn't. She wasn't angry with him anymore. He was only saying what everyone else was thinking about Jack, about her.

"Maybe later." She reached out a hand and patted his jacket sleeve. "Something is about to happen. I can feel it. For better or worse."

* * *

"And then what happened? Tell me again, Lieutenant."

They were at the police station and the sun was just coming up. It was all over but the paperwork.

"Well," Andy said. "It was intense. Just like you see in the movies."

Sharon sighed as Rusty encouraged Andy to tell the story again. They had finished their interviews with FID and with Taylor, and neither had asked as many questions as her foster son.

"A SWAT team entered the bank from the roof. The storm was over, so a helicopter lowered them down on ropes. They used infrared detectors to find the room where the hostages were being held, took out the robbers that were guarding them, and got the hostages out before the rest of the gang realized what was happening. Turns out they were waiting around for a European money transfer to happen and with the holiday, it didn't happen like they expected."

Andy glanced at Sharon. "Remember that kid, timing is important! Screw that up and you can fail miserably."

As Rusty stared expectantly at Andy, he continued. "A couple of the gang ran out of the bank and across the street towards the store we were hiding in. Sharon yelled for them to stop and drop their weapons. They failed to comply, turned their guns on us, and missed. We returned fire."

"We didn't miss." Sharon stood up from her desk and indicated that it was time to leave.

"Head shots," Rusty said. "You said earlier, you had to take head shots?"

Sharon nodded wearily, then glanced at Andy. "In extreme situations, when the heart is armored over, a head shot is sometimes your only option."

"And that's all of it? It's over?" Rusty asked, looking from Sharon to Andy. "That's the end of the story?"

Andy got to his feet and deferred to Sharon. "Is it?"

Sharon smiled. "I hope not."


End file.
